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Beautiful lacerations paint my face and lips.
The black out glass cuts deep into my patchwork flesh.
With tears of blood I've cried so long,
Drowning roses of midnight that choke out the breath of innocence.
Come whatever may,
Because we're dead in a sense.
For each time I've fallen
Out of grace
Lacerations mask my face.
A cry to the icy eyes
Of Armageddon
Come whatever may, Come whatever may.
And now for this deathly freak show we make way,
We're cold to this world,
And put here to stay.
Lace and lacerations weave the pattern of the seam
Of Lady Death's dress, as she enters the scene,
Masking our eyes from all the obscene.
Her pinned wings
For display, Beneath the glass of decay,
Corroding our hearts
To a sicker shade of pale.
Our eyes are turned inward, and our minds have gone stale,
We are less than ourselves
Once we were the slave.
Putting any number of seconds
To our last empty days.
- by ily_thats_all_she_wrotex_ |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 07/16/2008 |
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- Title: Lacerations & Butterfly Wings
- Artist: ily_thats_all_she_wrotex_
- Description: A poem I wrote in class one day. One of my better works.
- Date: 07/16/2008
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Viral Agent - 07/16/2008
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Sounds like every other emo poem/song/suicide note I've ever read.
The language is great, you write very beautifully, but you might want to try something a little less common.
I'd hate for you to be persecuted for your topic, not praised for your talents - Report As Spam